Blood is Thicker than Water
by Lady of Myth and Legends
Summary: A One-Shot, companion fic to We All Make Mistakes by Stoic Herlequin. Must read that story for this one to make sense. What if Don told one person about the test results before he burned them? What is her reaction? What she does next will determine whether or not the bond of family the turtles have built over the course of their lives has all been for not. Does blood really matter?


**Hello everyone! I've always been a TMNT fan since I was about seven or eight years old. My mother had a VHS tape of the first TMNT movie and both me and my sister wore that tape out ten times over. Then when the 2000's hit, we were in love with the series and thus, two TMNT fan girls were born. **

**You may be surprised to find that this is my first TMNT fanfic, so please don't kill me. This story's plot does not belong to me, but to Stoic Harlequin who I must say are two of the most well-written authors I've come across in the TMNT world. Alex Hamato and several others that I've read are as equally well-rounded in English and I'm a big fan of their work. Please check out their stories and give them support, you will not be disappointed. ****Keep in mind that a lot of their writing in based on the comic versions of the turtles, which are darker than the cartoons. **

**Anyway, this plot belongs to Stoic Harlequin who inspired me to write this One-Shot from April's point of view during the story We All Make Mistakes. You as readers need to read that story first in order to understand where this story is going. Plot belongs to Stoic and Harley, they just kindly let me barrow it for a spill.**

**A BIG shout out to Stoic and Harley for letting me barrow their plot and idea! You both are wonderful writers and I can't wait to see what other wonderful plots come from your all's brains! Oh, and TMNT belongs to . . . Nick? Wait, does this mean Eastman and Leird sold their rights? NOOOOOOOO!**

**Blood is Thicker than Water**

Yeah right. What brilliant scientist, philosopher, some well rounded author she never heard of, or perhaps even, some guy who got so wasted in a tavern four centuries ago started spouting off crap and some idiot overheard him, thought that actually applying that phrase to real life was a good idea? Whoever was responsible for the famous quotation, she would love nothing more than to pummel him into the hot, dry, cracked concrete that lay some thirty feet above her head. Not that it would matter or help her in any way, the dumbass was already dead.

_'Dust at this point.' _She thought bitterly as she crossed her arms and leaned back against the cold, damp brick of the lair behind her.

She never really thought that she would be this angry over something like this, but she was. She was practically seething right now.

_Blood is thicker than water._

She clenched her hands into fists as the offending phrase flitted through her mind again and shoved them into the crooks of her elbows to keep the others present in the room from seeing her agitation. She had to be strong for them or at least, for the turtle who knew the truth. She doubted that Donatello would reveal his findings to the rest of the family. Splinter probably didn't even know, but she knew that he could sense something was amiss within the purple banded turtle.

She had asked about it three days ago, about the results and strangely enough, he told her. More or less, at least. He had showed her the paper with the results printed ever so neatly on its surface. He never looked at her as she read them over, never even spared her a glance. Was it shame, or anger perhaps? He just stared down into the depths of his coffee mug as if willing for the brown, bitter liquid to swallow him up and disappear.

He gripped the ceramic so tightly in his two hands that she was afraid it would shatter and sent shards scattering in all directions along with the hot liquid that would most certainly fry the keyboard in front of him. But she read on, steeling herself for what offense the papers had spouted at her friend. What she found however, made her own stomach twist and coil into tight, hard knots. She never thought that it would matter so much to her.

But it did.

They were all seated in the living room, a football game between the Colts and the Giants filtered across the flatscreen that she and Casey gave them for Christmas last year. Watching them now, three days later, seeing how they interacted, it did matter. To her, it made all the difference in the world.

_Blood is thicker than water._

"Just shut up!"

She didn't know that she had voiced the retort out loud until six pairs of eyes had violently pulled away from the plasma and were staring at her with shock and confusion. Casey, faster than she thought possible, was by her side in an instant. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder and looked down at her with a very worried expression.

"Babe, ya okay? 'Cause we weren't talkin'."

Never before did those words terrify her as they did now. She wasn't one who kept her feelings bottled up and out of sight. She never acted out of anger all to often so it only made sense that her sudden outburst of anger caused her husband and her friends such worry. She sighed and looked away from Casey's eyes; she never really could hold up against them.

"April? Are you alright?"

She looked up to see who had spoken, but she already knew by the tone and air. Leonardo had stood from his place on the couch and was giving her an equally concerned expression. He looked like he wanted to come over and provide some sort of comfort, but he stayed rooted to the spot. She felt her gut twist violently when she met is worried gray eyes.

_Blood is thicker than water._

"It's nothing." She said as she tore her eyes from the eldest turtle.

She knew the comment would be disregarded by everyone in the room, but she didn't care. She didn't want to talk about it. Hell, she never told Casey the truth about what had been bugging her since three days ago. Since she read Don's results. Since she knew the truth. Blood was _not_ thicker than water. She didn't care if it defied the laws of physics or biology or chemistry. She didn't care what any famous person or persons said about the subject. Blood was _not_ thicker than water. Blood did not make a family.

"April."

Her head snapped up and suddenly she was face to face with Donatello. The now eighteen year old turtle looked haggard, tired, and his face had lost it's natural olive tone. A shadow of his former shelf as she would put it, he looked horrible and she knew the reason why. They both did.

"I'm sorry." She tried to keep her voice from cracking, tried to sound as normal as she could, and tried not to let her face betray what she was feeling. She sucked at it. She was no ninja.

"Blood is _not_ thicker than water Donatello." She growled suddenly through gritted teeth, not caring about the looks of confusion and sudden concern the others were shooting her. "Don't you think for a minute that it changes _anything_."

Don stared at her, his dull brown eyes suddenly sparked with an old light and widened, shock clear of his features. Then it was as if someone had turned on the light in his head and he smiled. It was the true, soft smile that he used to throw her when he was younger, a spark of something she couldn't place returned to his eyes. The purple banded turtle nodded in agreement and embraced the redhead in the effort to comfort her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the puzzlement and confusion in the eyes and faces of Mikey, Leo, Raph, Splinter, and her husband. This only confirmed what she had suspected for the past three days, they didn't know.

"Dude! Can I have my wife back?!" There was no trace of anger in Casey's voice, no hostility, but she knew that Casey was touchy about guys hugging her. Even if it was Don or one of his brothers.

"Sorry Casey." The young genius removed his arms from around the redhead's shoulders and offered her another true smile. "You're right April."

And then he laughed; a sound his brothers hadn't heard in three days. They stared at him as if he had truly lost his mind this time around. It wasn't his mad scientist laugh, nor was it cynical or degrading. Rather, it was of relief. It was the laugh of a man who had no idea which way to go or what path to take, but had suddenly been shown the one that had been under his nose the whole time.

"How come you're always right?" He laughed, blinking away a stray of tear, but there was a hint of wonder in his tone that was not lost on her.

She grinned, the answer already on her lips. "Because I'm your big sister that's why."

It wasn't a response that Donatello was expecting and a pure, unadulterated, deer-in-the-headlights expression suddenly plastered itself to his face in such a way that she wasn't sure if a crowbar could pry it off. The lair had gone unusually quite, as if all noise had become nonexistent. She spared a glance at the TV and discovered that Raph had muted the game. The evidence was in his hand, or at least it was until the black controller had slipped from his fingers and clattered to the stone floor.

"You all are my brothers," She continued, knowing that everyone, whether they knew it or not, needed to hear it. "Can't let you forget that."

Out of the corner of her eye, Splinter's expression of concern (_she could tell he was trying to shield it from everyone else_) melted and a knowing glint shimmered within his dark eyes. She was never able to tell what color they were, too dark to be brown and yet, not dark enough to be black. Somewhere in between, a hue or shade of something that could only be described as . . . him.

It was just Splinter and trying to come up with a hue or shade to describe was pointless. There would never be a way to explain his eyes, they knew much and yet, they knew little. They held love, and yet held rage. They pierced through lies and falsehoods, yet betrayed nothing when telling one himself. They displayed strength but at times April herself glimpsed flashes of insecurity.

The old rat gazed at her with such an understanding that it almost made her flinch. He knew or at least, he had a general idea of what was warring between Donatello and herself. What inward battle the two of them had been fighting and suffering. Alone, and very much in the dark corners of their minds where all the horrors that they were constantly faced with dwelled. He never did have to say a word in order to convey what she needed the most.

"We're all family." April swallowed thickly, unsure how to address both the purple banded turtle's expression of shock and Splinter's keenly sharp eyes. "Everyone of us is apart of each other. Nothing can tear that apart. Nothing."

She shook her head and closed her eyes, not sure if she wanted to face any of their expressions right at the moment.

"Ah thought we got that already."

Suddenly all eyes turned to Raph who was staring at her with an expression she didn't recognize. His amber eyes like two orbs of heated metal, glowing with a steady and rather . . . calming intensity. He pasted them over everyone, letting his gaze fall on each person for several seconds.

"Didn't know ya needed to hear it. Just thought ya knew."

"Everyone needs to hear it sometimes Raph." She countered just as calmly and just as smoothly. "And I think we need to hear it now."

Silence fell between them, leaving nothing but the gentle, telltale sign of breathing and the beating of seven hearts that showed that they were alive. They were living, breathing entities. They were beings that housed a heart, an object of muscle that was more than flesh. It could break and fracture without being physically harmed. It could stop without stopping. It could feel. And most importantly, it could love. And each of the seven hearts had bonds and ties with all the others. Like there was an invisible, golden string that wrapped around each beating muscle before looping off to connect with the next. They were tied, were bound to each other and if that golden string was cut, they would fall into a darkness that was so deep that it would overwhelm and consume them.

If they forgo that string, that bond, that tie, if they stripped themselves of what they had created over the past eighteen years . . . what were they left with? If they choose to believe that the knowledge that she and Don now possessed mattered at all, then they would crumble. They would fall into that deep darkness and would never pull out. If blood mattered, if it truly mattered, then it would only place an Iron Curtain between them. It would cut the string that tied them and they would be left to a life of loneliness and self-pity. They would shrivel and die without that string and like hell April was going to let some blood, some stupid test of DNA, get between her and her _family_.

"I _love_ you."


End file.
